The Lullaby of Mother Vietnam | Lời Ru Mẹ Việt Nam

Original author: Tuệ Nga | A Water-Moon Presentation

Lullay, the sweet lulling voice of gentle Mother,

Her song warms even the mountains and rivers.

Mother’s love, so tender and so pure,

With fragrant hands, she opens tales of yore.

O Mother, O Mother Vietnam,

Your love flows through a thousand lullabies.

You teach your children truth and grace,

To hold their roots, of Dragon and of Fairy born.

Vietnam’s like a sorrowed river,

Its winding bends hold tales of honor and betrayal.

The moon grows pale, the water hides in shame,

The people bled… yet bore it all the same.

Now Mother sings, her voice so low and deep,

A song of pain too dark, too wide to weep.

Two shadowed lands, divided by despair—

One source of sorrow flowing everywhere.

Her voice still shines, a quiet, steady flame,

A gentle strength that hardship cannot tame.

And in her garden, pure and bright,

The Flower of Love still blooms in morning light.

O Mother, O Mother Vietnam,

Your lullaby still rises through the land.

You sing of love, of peace, of home—

A song of flowers, a people’s own.

Lullay, O lullaby of Mother’s grace...

A song that time cannot erase.